


Soft Touch / Raw Nerve

by kaibasetos



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: First Time, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5151101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaibasetos/pseuds/kaibasetos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jounouchi’s voice is a conductor and the symphony of his body sings out in response.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Touch / Raw Nerve

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic ripped from my current NaNoWriMo project! Things have been going pretty well on that front thus far. Anyway, I suppose the "First Time" tag depends on your definition of "first time" -- my personal definition of it is any sort of initial sexual encounter, so there is no penetrative sex involved in this. It is, at least, _a_ first time.
> 
> Also, I just want to preface this by saying this probably isn't the fic you want to read if you want to read about Kaiba consistently being dominant in bed. He has a couple of subtle moments here, but in my opinion/due to my own headcanons, I think finally trusting someone enough to allow their relationship to reach this level of intimacy is a huge and vaguely frightening thing for him and it requires a more open, almost soft side of him to make an appearance.
> 
> That's just me and I know that it isn't going to be to everyone's tastes, but I really like this fic and I hope you can enjoy it regardless! Full speed ahead for the rest of November!

Jounouchi hasn’t stopped kissing him for what seems like an hour, and Kaiba hasn’t stopped basking in the feeling of it either. He’s still not accustomed to this; Jounouchi with him in his bed, kissing him sensual and demanding all at once, his mouth a question of just how far he can go and his tongue the answer. His lips are soft but needing against Kaiba’s and his fingers are rough but soothing where they rest on Kaiba’s jawline, holding him still. The dual sensations threaten to pry Kaiba apart. He keeps raking his hand through Jounouchi’s hair and memorizing how the strands feel to the touch as though he’ll never have another opportunity to experience it.

Jounouchi’s hands wander over his body. Kaiba tenses at first, rigid and wary like he’s ready to flee, but when Jonouchi leans in to kiss him deeper he allows himself to relax into it inch by inch. He is vivid and fluid and slowly longing. He feels as though in the midst of a fever dream, and when Jounouchi parts their mouths with a hand hesitating at the hem of Kaiba’s shirt and looks to him for consent, all he receives in return is a far-away look.

“Kaiba,” Jounouchi murmurs, his eyes flicking down to Kaiba’s lips for just an instant. He licks his own. “Can I touch you?”

Kaiba’s hand runs through Jounouchi’s hair again and comes to rest uncertainly at the nape of his neck. An unfamiliar sort of heat pools in his stomach at the question, the way Jounouchi is looking at him, and it’s accompanied by an equally unfamiliar sort of anxiety. “Yes,” he says at length, and his voice sounds much more unsteady than he’d like, but Jounouchi swallows it up by kissing him silent. His hands slide under Kaiba’s shirt, gently skimming along his spine, and Kaiba freezes up again instantaneously.

“I can stop,” Jounouchi offers, speaking clumsily against his mouth.

Kaiba carefully forces himself to unwind, focusing on each impossibly tight muscle in his body in turn until it loosens and he feels as though he can breathe again. It isn’t easy, but he wants it to be. “That’s not necessary.”

“Are you sure?” The warm and worried tone of Jounouchi’s voice sends a shiver through Kaiba. He’s never felt more vulnerable, stripped open and laid bare, than he does with Jounouchi’s hands on him, but somehow there’s an element of safety to it. Something he can’t quite name that makes him feel as though he can trust Jounouchi to care for this raw and fearful part of him, as paralyzing as it is to expose it.

“I’m sure.”

He can feel Jounouchi grin before they’re kissing again, but that’s nothing compared to Jounouchi’s hands on his back. He kisses and especially touches Kaiba with more certainty now. It’s a boldness Kaiba is used to, just not like this. He runs his fingers over Kaiba’s stomach and slides his tongue along Kaiba’s in tandem, and when he does Kaiba’s breath hitches in his throat, his fingers involuntarily tangling in the back of Jounouchi’s hair. That foreign heat spreads through him like a wildfire and makes him want, an untamed want without definition or reason.

He wants Jounouchi.

Jounouchi shifts to press his lips against Kaiba’s neck instead, and Kaiba involuntarily tilts his head back with a sharp inhale. He feels that heat translate into a flush running along his skin, electric and almost uncomfortable, straddling the borderline between sweet tranquility and frightened tension. Jounouchi bites down on the skin of his throat and sucks and Kaiba grabs his shoulder hard enough to hurt, desperate for something to keep him grounded in the tidal wave of feeling, desperate for enough control to keep him from repeating Jounouchi’s name like something obscene.

Jounouchi’s hand brushes his hip and he gasps, audibly.

“You alright?” Jounouchi asks, and Kaiba is so consumed by the implication of the path of Jounouchi’s touches that it makes his head swim. It takes him a moment to form a coherent response.

“No,” he breathes, and when Jounouchi immediately moves to pull away he tightens his grip on Jounouchi’s shoulder. He doesn’t actually want Jounouchi to stop, and the very thought itself is dizzying. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Sounds like a bad thing to me.”

Kaiba shakes his head and closes his eyes, taking a moment to focus on his breathing. It’s heavy, suffocating, the warmth of Jounouchi’s body and the way lust sits fresh and wild on his tongue, but something about it makes him feel intoxicated, addicted to this new, unknown freedom.

“Slow,” Kaiba whispers, because it’s the only thought he can manage to verbalize, and Jounouchi hesitates and looks up at him, waiting until Kaiba reluctantly meets his eyes.

“What?”

Kaiba tries not to focus on the way Jounouchi is still gently stroking his side. Maintaining eye contact with him requires tremendous effort, and vocalizing anything that doesn’t belie the craving building like a tornado in his chest requires just as much. “Take it slow.”

Realization dawns on Jounouchi’s face, and he gives Kaiba a crooked grin. “Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Kaiba stares at him for a moment, taking his time to roll that statement over in his mind and comprehend it fully. The sincerity and significance of it leave him with no choice but to drag Jounouchi in to kiss him, kiss him breathless and thankful, because he can’t speak of what it means to him but he knows he can help Jounouchi understand it anyway. The maelstrom of his emotion collides with the frantic roar of his need with such brutality he hardly registers Jounouchi’s hands mapping a trail down his body up until Jounouchi slides one of them under his clothes and the tips of his fingers graze the head of Kaiba’s cock.

Kaiba breaks away from the kiss with another heady gasp, and how blown apart he feels must be reflected in the way he looks at Jounouchi, because Jounouchi presses a comforting kiss to his jaw when he wraps his fingers around the base of Kaiba’s cock and strokes. “Relax, it’s just me.”

Kaiba claws at his shoulder and arches his back and he wants to say  _I know, that’s the problem, it’s you and I’ve never wanted anyone like I’ve wanted you, I’ve never let anyone touch me the way you’re touching me_ , but all that comes out of his mouth is a ragged, yearning, “Jounouchi.”

“Fuck, Kaiba,” Jounouchi murmurs, moving down to resume kissing his neck, his breath hot and his strokes slow but so goddamn overwhelming. “You’re incredible right now.”

Kaiba almost asks him to stop talking because the words wrest at the edges of him and tear him down, leave him moaning shamelessly where Jounouchi’s teeth catch the skin of his throat again, but Jounouchi’s voice is a conductor and the symphony of his body sings out in response. Jounouchi is leaving marks on him, taking him over, taking control, and his fear is turned to monstrous craving like the imprints of fangs in his ribs, in his lungs, a roaring hurricane in his hands. He grips Jounouchi’s hair and pulls and Jounouchi makes a muffled sound of longing and Kaiba’s hips buck into his touch.

He feels himself unravelling and he lets it happen, lets himself become both rabid and harmonious, volatile and sensitive. Jounouchi’s rhythm picks up and his tongue leaves a pattern on Kaiba’s skin and Kaiba moves into him, with him, no longer himself but something more alive, something built by the love and trust and scathing yearning Jounouchi stirs in him. The pleasure leaves him shaking and shuddering, his breathing sharp and stuttered, and he pulls Jounouchi up by his hair to kiss him with the ferocious force of it, bear it down upon him so he can feel it too.

He’s so caught up in the experience of it, the ceaseless movement and the uncontrollable quaking and Jounouchi’s hands and lips on him, that it overtakes and undoes him. Delicious pressure builds at the base of his curved spine and sends a vibrant, cresting thrill through every part of his body that Jounouchi has touched, a thrill that leaves him reaching for words he couldn’t speak even if he found them, words like urgent pleas and sinful prayers.

He yanks Jounouchi closer when he comes, his face buried in Jounouchi’s shoulder, his voice mangled into a short, broken cry that he can’t control, and he trembles so hard that Jounouchi immediately wraps an arm around his waist to keep him steady even after the rushing cataclysm of desire starts to ebb away.

“Kaiba,” Jounouchi prompts him, unfairly gentle. “Hey, look at me.”

Kaiba takes a long minute to reassess his chaotic heart rate before he does, and Jounouchi is smiling. The aftershocks still making a mess of him seem to fight him even harder at the sight.

“That was good, right?”

The completely unabashed nature of Jounouchi’s question makes Kaiba reflexively bite his tongue, grasping for some kind of physical sensation to distract himself from how self-conscious he should feel. He slowly unwinds his fingers from Jounouchi’s hair and flexes them, trying to get them to stop quivering.

He nods, but Jounouchi continues to look at him expectantly. He averts his eyes.

“Yes,” he agrees, finally. “That was good.”

Jounouchi grins, touching his forehead to Kaiba’s. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You’re deplorable,” Kaiba murmurs with absolutely no feeling behind it at all. The ghost of uneasy excitement still hasn’t quite stopped haunting him, but Jounouchi is rubbing his back and he’s drowsy and floating and his mouth is full of an undefined mixture of sentiment that tastes sacred and holy.

“Yeah, I know,” Jounouchi laughs, and Kaiba would roll his eyes if he had the energy left.

Instead, he closes them, and for the first time in years he allows himself to simply revel in the feeling of contentment and peace. 


End file.
